


Words of Once Upon

by orphan_account



Series: One is enough for now [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: And yes I did use Lorenzo and Felice, Gen, My First AO3 Post, Please Don't Hate Me, i tried honestly, sorrynotsorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22658572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Felice regarded the hand. “A-and what do you want in r-return?”The stranger just smiled cheekily. “Just repaying a debt I owe to your grandfather.”The small boy nodded, grabbing the freezing hand, shaking it. “Deal.”
Series: One is enough for now [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773214
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Words of Once Upon

_Per te dietro il muro._

_Tutto bene?_

_Sei bravo?_

_Spero che non ti sia preso il raffreddore._

_Hai dormito abbastanza?_

_Ti ho amato, sempre. Sei tutto per me._

* * *

_1746_

“Come on fratello! We’re going to miss it!” A six year old Felice Vargas called out to his older brother by a year, who was scurrying over the small rocks and branches behind him. 

“W-Wait up dammit!” Lorenzo called out, ignoring how a loose pebble wedged it’s way into his tiny sneakers. He reached a tanned hand forward, almost at the top of a hill when his foot came loose, slipping on the smooth stone. “A-ah-!” He cried as his head collided with a sickening crack on the pointed rock before going deathly silent.

Felice paused in his climb up the hill, the silence of the forest filling his ears where his brother’s complaints once did. He turned back around, a sweet breeze playing with his light brown locks. “Fratello?” No answer. He looked down on the still body just a yard back. “F-fratello?” He tried again, louder, a slight wobble in his voice. 

He clambered down to his brother, crouching beside him. Felice shook his shoulder with a small pale hand. “F-Fratello?” Lorenzo, who would normally just jump up, shaking dust from his clothes, was still, unmoving. The Italian could feel a lump of fear wedging it’s way up his throat. “C-come on.” Felice shook Lorenzo harder, light tears starting to spill from his golden eyes. “W-we’re g-going to m-miss the sunset.”

Lorenzo still did not move, a small puddle of blood, pooling in the ground. The younger boy couldn't find it in him to turn his brother right-side-up. He backed up, wiping tears from his eyes. Was...he dead? He looked in slight horror and fear before bolting back down the hill, uncaring of the branches and twigs scratched at his porcelain skin painfully. “Nonno!” He cried at the top of his little lungs. “Nonno please! S-somethings wrong with Lorenzo!” 

Their grandfather, a handsome man with angular features came out of the old house, his face comforted in worry. “Felice, where’s your fratello?” 

The Italian latched onto his grandfather in a vice-like grip, tears pouring from his round eyes. “H-he.” The six year old hiccuped. “I- don’t know! I-I looked b-back and h-he was o-on the g-ground!” He cried.

The older man’s face hardened. “Where?” Felice pointed toward the forested hill of their backyard. He nodded. “Stay here.” Felice’s grandfather ran off, leaving his youngest grandson behind at the house. 

The Italian cried, whipping at his cheeks with a small hand. “P-please.” He looked up at the sky, casted in the colours of a sunset. “P-please, anyone, the holiest god, the d-damned sinners, h-help my brother.” He prayed, clasping his hands together. “I-don’t care who, just please, h-help him, p-protect him.” Felice sniffled, casting his sweet golden eyes back to the hill.

“Is that your true wish?” A voice chimed next to him. Felice jumped, looking beside him where a man stood. He looked young, but with a timeless, ageless presence about him, as if he had been here since the beginning. He was there when you were born, he will be there when you die. The stranger had messy, pure white hair, deathly pale skin, and red piercing eyes, with a simple cloak of black.

“Y-yes!” Felice jumped up. “Can you?!”

The being trained those red orbs back on him. “It is too late for him now, but I can promise he will survive in the next lives.” He held out a pale hand, rough and calloused. “Do you agree?”

Felice regarded the hand. “A-and what do you want in r-return?” 

The stranger just smiled cheekily. “Just repaying a debt I owe to your grandfather.” 

The small boy nodded, grabbing the freezing hand, shaking it. “Deal.”

* * *

_1907_

Lovino stood in a trench, peeking over to fire a shot once in awhile, cursing when he ran out of bullets. “Dammit dammit dammit. Damn it all.” He muttered. Both opposing troops were running out of ammo, fast, soon it was going to be a battle of hands and fists rather than guns and hidey-holes. “I’m out.” He stated to his section. He could feel the signs of disappointment. There were only twelve people in their small area of the trench, and five were out with no ammo to fire.

One by one the guns were tossed to the side, and soon, the last shot, fired from the enemy’s side, was fired, leaving the no-man’s-land in silence. Then, cry as one of the soldiers from Lovino’s side, charged across the bare ground. That;s what started it. It was horrible. Soon Lovino was caught up in it too. He was dodging punches to the face, and small army knives slicing for his heart, or his neck. 

“Dammit! Damn it all!” He screeched as he fled from an opposing war soldier, Swiss Army knife in hand. Usually those small things didn’t scare him, but now, it was like the world's most powerful weapon to him, like _hell_ was he getting close to that thing. 

Then, a large shape loomed in front of him, dagger, gleaming in the sunlight. “Damn.” Lovino spoke blankly as the knife plunged downward, he clenched his eyes shut, accepting his fate. But, the blow never came, instead of sweet darkness there was a violent clang as metal met metal. Lovino risked opening an eye. In front of him a fellow soldier he never remembered seeing was defending him. 

“Go!” The man called. His red eyes flashing as his white hair whipped in the cold piercing wind. “I’ll handle him!”

Lovino ran like hell, mentally thanking the stranger for saving his life.

* * *

  
_Für dich hinter der Wand._

_Alles in Ordnung?_

_Alles okay?_

_Ich hoffe, du hast dich nicht erkältet._

_Hast du genug Schlaf bekommen?_

_Ich habe dich immer geliebt. Du bist alles für mich._

* * *

_1940_

Romano walked along the dirty streets of Italy, watching unfamiliar faces pass him. He pulled his scarf closer to his neck, his breath appearing in foggy clouds. “Why does it have to be so damn cold.” He grumbled, a car trucking past with a loud honk. 

“Why did I have to do the errands?” He complained quietly, shoving past another pedestrian. “Damn you Veneciano.”

He stopped at a crosswalk, cars whizzing past. He tapped his foot, impatiently, glancing annoyedly at the crossing sign, waiting to turn green. 

When was the light going to go green? He scoffed, looking at the time. “Damn it all.” He spoke aloud, ignoring how a lady beside him shot him a dirty look, covering her young daughter’s ears. There was a lull in the traffic, the street was empty. Lovino looked left and right. “Damn it all. I’m going.” He walked briskly across the street, the pedestrians watching him nervously. 

He raised his head and eyes to the sky above. “Haha take tha-“

“Sir! Watch out!”

A loud honk came, as the familiar sound of a car motor reached his ears. He froze, his green eyes widening. He looked back at the street, a car speeding toward him, showing no sign of stopping. “Oh damn.” He whispered, frozen to his spot in the middle of the road.

Then a pale hand reached out, roughly grabbing him by the shirt, tugging him foreword violently, Romano’s scarf brushing the car as it whizzed by. He crashed into a solid body roughly. 

“Hey, are you okay?” A voice spoke. Romano shook his head, trying to clear it, backing away from the person he crashed into.

“I-Uh.. what the fu..am I dead?” Romano spoke dumbly, patting himself down before looking up at his Savior. 

A man with white hair and red eyes greeting him, pale face comforted in worry. Romano couldn’t help but feel a sudden stab of familiarity. The stranger chuckled. “Thankfully not.”

The Italian nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Good.” He paused before shaking his head once again. “Well uh, thank you, really.” He spoke awkwardly.

The man grinned, borderline smirked. “Don’t mention it! I'm awesome after all.”

Romano raised an eyebrow before pushing past the man. “Whatever, caio bastard.”

* * *

_2020_

South Italy grinned in victory as he looked over the cliff, chest heaving. “You see this potato bastard! I can hike!”

Germany frowned and North Italy excitedly pointed out the various mountains in the distance. 

He nodded. “Damn. Nice view.” He took off his backpack, grabbing a swig of water from his large water bottle, sitting down, swinging his legs over the cliff dangerously. 

“Be careful fratello!” Italy’s voice chimed from behind him. 

“Yeah yeah whatever bastard.” South Italy grumbled, kicking his legs back and forth. It was nice really, a beautiful sunset at the top of a cliff. He trained his eyes on the setting sun, it’s bright rays casting him in a golden hue, like something from a story book. 

“Fratello come on! Germany says there’s a better view at the very top!” Italy called, beckoning his brother. 

“Coming coming. Just wait up a damn second.” South Italy responded, picking up his backpack. Placing a tanned hand on the ground, he hoisted himself up, only for the loose pebbled to slip. “A-Ah!” He cried, falling from the edge.

He felt his stomach drop to his gut, as his hand finally came loose. He clenched his eyes shut, but felt a shock run through his system as his life ending decent came to a halt, him hanging precariously. South Italy cast his green eyes upward, coming into contact with red ones. He was hauled upwards, onto safe ground. 

“Oh my damn.” He gasped out. “I feel horrible”

Laughter chimed from beside him, as South Italy looked back at his Savior. “Kesese! How does it feel to be saved by the awesome Prussia!” The German laughed.

South Italy scowled, reaching out to weakly punch the Germanic nation. “Shut up bastard.” He picked up his backpack, standing up shakily before hiking away.

“W-wait up!” Prussia called from behind him, scrambling to catch up. “That;s no way to treat your Savior!”

“Psh, why did you save me anyways? Even if I died I would just come back.” The Italian nation commented.

Prussia chuckled, his red eyes flashing mischievously. “Just making good on a promise South.”

* * *

  
_To you behind the wall._

_Are you well?_

_Are you eating properly?_

_I hope you have not caught a cold._

_Have you been getting enough sleep?_

_I have loved you, always. You are my everything._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Italian and German acquired through Google Translate. Feel free to correct me.


End file.
